


These Promises to You (I'm Your Man)

by Savoytruffle



Series: I'm Your Man [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-17
Updated: 2012-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-11 22:02:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savoytruffle/pseuds/Savoytruffle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim <i>so</i> isn't about to let Bones go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Promises to You (I'm Your Man)

The walk from Jim’s inquiry back to his temporary housing is only about fifteen minutes, but Jim takes the long way.

He’s got a hell of an angry lecture to rehearse.

It starts with something like, “What the fuck were you thinking?” and then there’s the part about, “I can’t believe you were going to let me go in there blind!” followed by, “I told you to trust me, asshole.”

The next section begins with, “Thank fuck Pike commed me to tell me what was up,” proceeds through, “Do you know how hard it is to contradict your bullshit confession without accusing you of perjury?” and segues into, “You better believe I told them what a damn good doctor you were and what a tremendous loss you’d be to the _Enterprise_ and to Starfleet.”

At this point, Jim expects to gauge Bones’ reaction and either remind Bones of all the times Jim’s come through for him, or remind him of all the times he’s pulled off some medical miracle to save Jim or the crew.

Either way, it all comes down to three things: that Bones is being a fucking self-sacrificial idiot, that Jim is going to fix everything, and that by the time the _Enterprise_ leaves for her next mission Bones is damn well going to be on her.

After all that? Make-up sex.

The kind where Jim pounds the hell out of Bones’ ass and Bones begs him for more. The kind where Bones doesn’t sit comfortably for a week and Jim doesn’t feel the least bit sorry about it.

By the time Jim reaches the door to the apartment, he’s just as fuming as he was when he left the inquiry, but a lot more focused in his rage. He’s got a plan.

And fuck modern doors for not slamming open, anyway.

But when Jim makes his far-too-quiet entrance, he finds the last thing he expected.

Bones is gone.

 

 

Jim’s been through enough pysch evals to know that he’s got abandonment issues.

Knowing doesn’t help.

He picks up his comm about a hundred times, but he always sets it back down again. If Bones wants to talk, he knows exactly where he left Jim.

Besides, Jim's still mad.

 

 

 

“You’re not really mad,” Nyota says, taking a sip of her martini. She looks exactly like Joan Bond from that 007 movie that came out in the 2130s sometime, Dagger of the Mind or something like that. It’s always been one of Jim’s favorites. Jim would _totally_ be her Bond boy. “Hello, Uhura to Kirk, come in.”

In retrospect, Jim probably drank those first three beers way too fast. He blinks at her and gets his mind back to the matter at hand. “What?” he says, taking belated offense. “Of course I’m mad.”

“Why?” Nyota challenges.

“What do you mean ‘why’? Because…because he went behind my back and got himself in trouble.”

“To save your ass.”

“Well, my ass didn’t need saving.”

Nyota snorts. “Your ass always needs saving, Kirk. And for some reason, saving it seems to be Leonard’s calling in life. You can’t be surprised.”

“Of course I’m surprised,” Jim insists.

Nyota rolls her eyes at him. “Then you haven’t been paying attention.”

 

 

Well, Jim admits as he lies on his bed not sleeping, if he didn’t want someone to smack some sense into him, he probably shouldn’t have called Nyota.

An hour later, round about three a.m., he picks up his comm and sends her a text: _He’s gotta be in Georgia. Should I go after him?_

Nyota’s response is eerily quick and utterly simple: _Duh._

 

 

The thing with Bones and Georgia is…

Well, Jim doesn’t really know _what_ the thing is with Bones and Georgia. They had exactly one conversation about it on the ship a few months ago when they were talking about their between-mission plans. Something like…

__**Jim** : So, I guess you’ll be spending a lot of your time in Georgia.  
 **Bones** : Yeah, looks like.  
 **Jim** : I could…I mean…if you want me to come with you—  
 **Bones** : No, that’s okay, you don’t have to. I’ll be fine.  
 **Jim** : I know. I just…  
 **Bones** : You don’t…It’s complicated. 

Jim had figured _complicated_ meant: ‘Things are already complicated enough without you complicating it further.’ Having his own complicated family dynamics, Jim told himself he could be cool and give Bones some space for once.

Now he wonders if _complicated_ meant Bones was trying to spare Jim the trouble of dealing with Bones’ whole and real life.

Jim doesn’t need to be spared.

 

 

The shuttle is about to board and Jim isn’t sure what to do.

He doesn’t want to go storming into Bones’ past like a bull in a china shop, but he’s not looking for permission either. He’s determined to see Bones and to be there for Bones and to shake some sense into Bones whether Bones likes it or not.

He settles for dashing off a quick warning text with his shuttle number and arrival time. Ready or not, here he comes.

 

 

Jim scans the crowd as he steps through the gate at the shuttleport.

When he spots Bones he starts to breathe again.

“I am so pissed at you right now,” are the first words Jim speaks, though they’re probably undermined by the way he’s got his arms locked around Bones’ torso.

“I know,” Bones says. “Let’s get out of here.”

Bones has a hovercar rental parked outside. He drives them to the officer housing adjacent to a Starfleet Medical research facility.

Apparently, Jim can’t keep the surprise off his face because Bones looks at him and shrugs. “It’s free and convenient and they have to let me stay until they officially kick me out. Besides which, they’re practically tripping over themselves to pick my brain about all the strange stuff we encountered out there.”

“They’re not going to,” Jim says.

“What? Pick my brain? Believe me, I’ve got a thing or two I intend on telling them about their ‘standard operating procedure.’”

“No,” Jim says, impatient, “they’re not going to kick you out.”

Bones shrugs again. “We’ll see.”

They get out of the car and Jim barely resists the urge to stamp his foot like a five-year-old. “Why the hell doesn’t any of this bother you?”

“I made my decision,” Bones says. “I did what I had to do.”

“But you _didn’t_ have to do it,” Jim growls. “No one asked you to be a stupid, self-sacrificing son-of-a-bitch.”

“You belong out there,” Bones says, infuriating in his utter calm.

“And you belong with me!” Jim shouts, hardly even registering his own voicing of what’s remained unspoken for so long.

Bones’ eyes are sad, but he doesn’t fight back. “We’ve got this time, Jim. Let’s make the most of it.”

Jim wills his fists to unclench and follows Bones into the bedroom.

 

 

The next morning, they don’t talk about it. Bones doesn’t try to defend his actions to Jim and Jim doesn’t mention the half dozen or so communications he makes before breakfast on Bones’ behalf.

There’ll be plenty of time to tell Bones once everything is fixed.

“So,” Jim says, in between sips of coffee, “when do I get to meet your mom and your daughter and the infamous ex?”

The look in Bones’ eyes speaks of quiet panic. Jim tries not to be offended.

“Oh come on,” he says, trying to keep his tone light, “I promise to be on my very best behavior. You know, everyone besides you thinks I’m totally charming.”

Bones just raises an eyebrow.

“Okay,” Jim amends, “everyone besides you, Uhura, Spock, Cupcake, two of the admirals, and that one high priestess on Candalar II.”

“Don’t forget the Vice Chancellor on Echillon.”

Jim shudders. “Would that I could, Bones. Would that I could.”

 

 

The day passes quickly, with Bones popping in and out of various meetings and consultations, while Jim sits in various lobbies interspersing paperwork for the next mission with calling in favors to get more people on Bones’ side.

Despite Jim’s effort to keep the tone light in their moments spent together, Bones’ body radiates tension as they finally leave the Starfleet Medical facility and get back in the hovercar.

They’re going to pick up Joanna and take her to dinner. Bones’ fingers are tapping nonstop against the steering wheel, but Jim feels confident. She’s a fourteen-year-old girl and he’s a celebrity Starfleet captain who’s always been a bit of a kid at heart.

They’re going to get along famously.

 

 

The woman who answers the door looks…softer than Jim expects. Jim’s not quite sure what he means by that except that he guesses he’s painted her as the villain all this time. Sharp edges, devastating beauty, a cold heart.

This woman is pleasantly curvy with her hair pulled back into a loose knot and a smile on her face that glows from her eyes. “You must be Jim,” she says in a tone he never imagined being so warm.

It’s a good thing Jim’s diplomat field training has taught him to roll with the punches. “Guilty as charged,” he says. “And you must be Jocelyn.”

“Just Joce, please.” She steps back from the doorway to let them pass. “Come on in.”

“You have a lovely home,” Jim says, and he means it. It’s just as warm and welcoming as the woman who owns it.

“Thank you,” Joce says. She looks towards the stairs with an expression that seems almost nervous for a second before she covers with a smile. “Let me just go see if Jo’s ready. If y’all want something to drink, help yourselves. Len knows where things are.”

“Thanks,” Bones says, meeting Joce’s eyes for a moment.

Something passes between them in that look, but Jim doesn’t speak their silent language.

He covers up his awkward feeling with a smirk. “How about it, _Len_?”

Bones elbows him and says, “Shut up, Jim,” but his heart doesn’t seem to be in the rebuke. His gaze remains glued to the stairs.

The girl who eventually comes down them is a little gawky in that way teens can be when they’re still growing into themselves, but she would be cute…if not for the scowl on her face.

(Definitely a real McCoy.)

“We have to be back by seven,” she tells her dad. “I told my friend Kim I would comm her.”

She doesn’t even look at Jim as she brushes past them both and goes to get a coat.

“That’s fine,” Bones says. “Jo, I’d like you to meet Jim, my captain and my…friend.”

“Hey, Joanna,” Jim says.

Joanna surveys and dismisses Jim in under five seconds. “Whatever,” she says.

“Joanna Eleanor McCoy,” Joce snaps, “where are your manners?”

“I don’t know,” Joanna says. “Maybe Dad can look for them when he goes back into space.”

Joce looks like she’s about to say something more, but Bones silences her with a quick shake of his head. He puts on a strained smile and opens the door for his daughter. “Let’s go.”

 

 

Getting Joanna to talk is like pulling teeth. For Bones, at least.

For Jim, it’s more like the sword in the stone. Pull as he might, he doesn’t get anywhere.

In fact, Joanna is doing such a great job pretending he isn’t there that Jim’s beginning to question his own existence. Bones makes multiple attempts to bring Jim into what little conversation he’s extracting from his daughter at any given moment, but they don’t pay off. He tries to tell her tales of Jim’s heroism and their exciting adventures on far off planets, but Joanna’s got that teenage look of “unimpressed” down pat.

Eventually, she gets up to go to the restroom in the middle of one of Bones' sentences.

“I’m so sorry, Jim,” Bones says, once she’s out of hearing distance.

Jim waves off the apology. “Forget it. You should have met me when I was her age. I’m surprised no one smothered me in my sleep.”

Bones manages a small chuckle. “You should know, though, it’s not you.”

Jim nods. “I’ll try not to take it personally. You don’t have to try to get her to talk to me, though. This is your time.”

Bones frowns. “Well, she still needs to learn to put up with you. This is our time, too.”

Jim really doesn’t appreciate the reminder that Bones plans to send Jim back into space alone. “Bones, about that…”

Joanna reappears before he can finish his sentence and demands dessert.

From her father.

She doesn’t speak one word to Jim all night.

 

 

Jim thinks maybe Bones needs to talk about whatever’s going with him and his daughter, but Bones doesn’t bring it up. In all the years they’ve known each other, they’ve talked about a lot of things, but almost never about Bones’ former life. He’s always played those particular cards very close to the chest.

But it’s not like Jim’s ever shown his full hand either.

And what does he know about functional family life anyway?

 

 

To her credit, Jocelyn clearly isn’t allowing Joanna to avoid her father. In spite of reception that continues to be lukewarm at best, Bones keeps asking for time with Joanna and Jocelyn keeps giving it to him.

Sometimes Jim tags along, sometimes he doesn’t, and soon Joanna learns how to use this to her advantage. She starts being nicer to her father on his solo visits. She shuts down almost completely when Jim is present.

It’s a boycott, plain and simple.

Eventually, important Starfleet business starts popping up for Jim right before Bones is about to see Joanna. Bones isn’t buying the coincidence, but he lets it slide for a while.

Jim uses the alone time to whittle the case against Bones down from a court martial to a retroactive suspension including time served.

Bones will be free for assignment in six weeks, and a quick comm to Scotty ensures that the _Enterprise_ refits won’t be ready until then.

 

 

Jim breaks the good news by having the paperwork to sign on to the new mission sent to Bones’ PADD. Of course that PADD is sitting in the apartment right next to Jim and Bones isn’t home yet.

Jim’s leg is bouncing and he can’t keep the grin off his face. When he hears the sound of the door, he stills his limbs and schools his expression.

“Hey, Bones,” he says, all casual and shit.

“Hey, Jim.” Bones sounds tired.

“Rough evening?” Jim asks, genuinely concerned if seriously distracted.

“Same old,” Bones mutters. “I just want to take a shower and go to bed.”

That is _so_ not the plan. “Uh, don’t you want to check your messages first?”

Bones shrugs. “I’m sure it’s nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow.”

Jim considers just letting the cat out of the bag, but decides he can wait until tomorrow, too.

He can do patience.

Sometimes.

When they get undressed and into bed, Bones’ body language doesn’t exactly scream, ‘Take me now, you sexy beast!’ but Jim has enough energy for both of them. If he can’t give Bones his good news, he’ll have to give him something else.

Hard.

He’s got Bones moaning and writhing beneath him in fifteen minutes flat.

After two extremely satisfying orgasms, Bones is beautifully boneless, but Jim still can’t stop grinning. Bones cracks open a single eye and gives Jim an half-hearted half-glare. “Someone’s in a good mood tonight.”

If anything, Jim’s smile widens. “I don’t know,” he fibs, “I’ve just got a feeling things are gonna start looking up.”

 

 

Jim wakes up before Bones and is too excited to fall back asleep. He slips out of bed and goes for a run instead, picking up some ingredients at the corner market on his way home. He’s in the kitchen making French toast when Bones appears.

“Someone’s industrious this morning,” Bones murmurs.

Jim smiles and hands Bones a cup of coffee.

“You are a god among men,” Bones says, sipping at the coffee as he wanders into the living room to retrieve his PADD.

He powers it up and walks back to the living room juggling it with his coffee. Jim can tell the exact moment when he sees and understands the document because Bones jerks to a stop, barely avoiding spilling hot coffee all over the PADD and managing to spill it down his own chest instead.

(It’s a good decision – Starfleet hates it when you spill drinks on your PADD. Jim knows this from experience.)

“Shit,” Bones mutters as he struggles to get things back under control. Then, belatedly: “Jim, did you—? I mean, what—? I mean, how—?”

Jim’s grin is reaching epic proportions as he hands Bones a towel to mop up the coffee. “I did. You only got a ten-week suspension and you’ve been serving it, so you’ll be ready by the time the _Enterprise_ is. And, by calling in almost every favor I’ve ever earned.”

If Bones weren’t Bones, he’d probably be speechless. “Christ, Jim, you didn’t have to—”

“Totally worth it,” Jim assures him.

“I…I just…”

“You’re welcome,” Jim says. “Let’s eat.”

Bones sits down at the breakfast bar, but eats his French toast on auto-pilot, the dazed look never quite leaving his eyes.

Jim laughs and waves a hand in front of his face. “You can smile, you know. It’s good news.”

Bones does manage a small smile. “I know,” he says. “I guess I just never thought you could…”

“Then you haven’t been paying attention,” Jim says.

 

 

Jim spends the next several days bursting with energy and anticipation.

He throws himself into the mission prep with a gusto he couldn’t feel when there was any chance he might be going back out alone.

He fucks Bones over every piece of furniture in the apartment.

Twice.

It’s almost a week before he realizes that Bones hasn’t actually signed the paperwork.

 

 

Jim decides to play it casual. They’re sitting on the couch having a drink after dinner, both looking at things on their PADDs.

“Oh hey,” Jim says, like he’s just now noticed, “it’s telling me you haven’t sent in your paperwork for the new mission.”

“Hmm?” Bones says, looking up. “Oh, yeah, guess I forgot to get to it.”

Jim refrains from pointing out that Bones has his PADD in his hand right now. “Well, you know, if the crew manifest isn’t complete by next week, HQ is going to start giving me a hard time…”

“Right,” Bones says, nodding, “Of course.”

Which isn’t actually an answer at all.

 

 

Jim is staying cool.

There is no creeping sense of panic slowly edging out any room for air in his chest.

Bones has always been a bit tetchy about space, but he’s always gotten over it.

He’ll sign.

 

 

The next time they’re sitting together on the couch, Jim just happens to be reviewing the upgrade schematics for the _Enterprise_ , which include…

“…lots of new safety features,” he’s telling Bones. “And we’re going to have a much larger botanical unit, which will provide rations of fresh fruits and vegetables for the whole crew. Plus, we’re getting one of those new holodeck thingies. I’ve heard it feels totally real, so you can program it to do whatever you’re missing – long walks on the beach where you feel the sand between your toes, a summer baseball game with the smell of roasted peanuts. Hell, you could even fly a kite on a cliff in Ireland.”

Bones shudders. “No cliffs, thank you very much.”

 

 

Of course, maybe it’s less about the space thing and more about the stress of being the personal physician for a captain who tends to get a little too hands-on with his missions, on top of overseeing the health of an entire crew. Not to mention all the crazy xeno-medical shit they encounter on distant planets.

“You know, we’re getting a ship’s counselor,” Jim says as they sit in Starfleet Medical’s green-space at lunch time eating gelato. “Her names Liz Dehner. She’s supposed to be really good.”

“Thank god,” Bones says. “You wouldn’t believe the shit that patients see fit to tell me in confidence, even when I’m just giving out standard vaccinations. Gets hard to look people in the eye at the mess.”

“Also,” Jim says, licking thoughtfully at his spoon, “I’m thinking maybe I should let Spock head more of the away missions. I mean, it isn’t exactly protocol for the captain to go down every time and Spock could probably use the leadership practice if he ever decides he wants his own ship.”

“Hmph,” Bones grunts with a distinct tone of skepticism.

“What? You don’t think Spock could lead his own ship?”

“’Course he could,” Bones says. “But I’ll believe you staying behind and minding the bridge when I see it.”

 

 

 

Bones’ mother is turning seventy and he wants Jim to be there for the big family get together. It’s being held in the small town where Bones’ parents grew up, in the old family home Eleanor McCoy shares with her younger sister.

They stop to pick up Joanna on the way out of town. She stumbles down the front porch in a pair of high heeled sandals and a dress so short and low cut that Bones looks like he may have a seizure at any moment.

“Fuckin’ hell, Jim, she looks like an escort,” Bones hisses.

Jim hides his smile. “It’s a legitimate profession.”

“Not for my daughter.”

“Pays well, too,” Jim continues. “And the training they get in manners and conversation is supposed to be—”

“One more word,” Bones grits, “and I kill you right here. I’ll bury your body in Mama’s peach orchard.”

“Noted,” Jim says. He turns to smile brightly at Joanna as she climbs into the back seat. “Hey, Joanna! Looking good.”

Bones shoots Jim a glare.

Joanna ignores him, as usual.

 

 

The town is quaint and charming in a way that Riverside hasn’t been in centuries. The old house is grand and stately, but so full of love, laughter, debate and bickering that it feels positively cozy. Jim’s never been part of a family thing like this before, and it’s kind of amazing.

He’s been thinking of Bones as his family for years now, but he’s never given any thought to all the other relatives that might come with.

He does his best to make a good impression so that they’ll want him back again.

 

 

Jim is on his way in from the back yard and Joanna is on her way out. He grits his teeth and offers her a smile. She rolls her eyes and looks away.

Unfortunately, she’s not quite used to her high-heeled escort sandals and the distraction of snubbing Jim causes her to lose her footing on the steps down from the house. She lets out a little gasp as her ankle turns and she starts to fall.

Jim catches her.

“You okay, there, kiddo?”

Joanna scowls at him even as she clings to his arms. “Don’t call me ‘kiddo,’” are the first words she deigns to speak to him.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Jim says. “Your dad calls me ‘kid’ all the time.”

“Ew,” Joanna says, trying to pull away, but she ends up grabbing for him again half as second later, her balance on the shoes not yet restored. “I don’t want to know _what_ my dad calls you,” she huffs.

“Oh-kay,” Jim says, deciding to drop the pleasantries. “Look, I’d be a dick if I didn’t help you to a chair right now, so you’re going to have to try to endure about fifteen more seconds of my company.”

Joanna says nothing as Jim guides her over to a nearby lawn chair and eases her down into it.

“Okay, I’ll just go get your dad to take a look at that ankle.” Jim starts to straighten up, but Joanna’s hand shoots out to stop him.

“No!” she says.

Jim’s eyes narrow as he thinks that one over. “Ah,” he says slowly, “you don’t want your dad to know that you can’t walk in your esc— big-girl shoes.”

Joanna refuses to acknowledge the truth of that statement. “I’m fine,” she says. “Now go away.”

“Not a chance, _kiddo_. If you don’t want me to get your dad, then you’re gonna sit right here while _I_ check your ankle.”

“What do you know about it, anyway?” Joanna grumbles, but she doesn’t pull her ankle away as Jim crouches down and takes it into his hands.

He rotates the ankle gently and feels for any signs of swelling. “They don’t let you captain a starship without a few courses in basic first aid.”

“Gee, thanks for reminding me that you’re a starship captain,” Joanna snarks. “I almost forgot.”

“You’re ankle’s fine,” Jim says, sitting back. He glances around to make sure no one’s eavesdropping on them before going on. “So, now that you’ve been forced to acknowledge that I actually exist, let’s skip all the bullshit where you try to piss me off with your oh-so-witty teenage barbs and just get to the point. What the hell is your problem with me?”

Joanna snorts. “Like you don’t know.”

Jim snorts right back. “What? You think I’m the one keeping your parents from getting back together? Because believe me, that was over long before I entered the scene.”

Joanna rolls her eyes. “I know that. I’m not an idiot.”

Jim rolls his eyes right back. “Then what? Most people wait until they’ve at least _met_ me before they decide they don’t like me.” (Strictly speaking, Jim realizes that statement is untrue, but he’s more concerned with the principle anyway.)

“God,” Joanna says, “are you really going to make me say it?”

“Say _what_?”

“That my own dad likes you more than me. There. Are you happy now?”

 _Stunned_ would be a better word for it. He can see her blinking back the tears welling in her eyes. “What? Joanna, that just isn’t true. Your dad adores you. Shit, he’d have to to put up with the way you’ve been treating him for the last month.”

Joanna shakes her head. “He puts up with it because he feels bad for not being around. Only I guess he doesn’t feel bad enough about not being around to actually _stay_.”

The terrible thing is that Jim totally gets what she’s saying. “Your dad does important work,” he insists, sounding desperate even to himself. “He saves more lives out there than any captain could ever expect. I can’t even count the number of times he’s saved mine. And not just our crew, either. The planets we visit…I swear, the man could heal a rock.”

Joanna swipes the back of her hand across her eyes. “My dad, the hero,” she says, voice flat. “Been there, bought the snow globe.”

“Look,” even as the words are coming out of his mouth, Jim can hear the empty cliché, “just because he can’t be with you all the time—”

“Doesn’t mean he doesn’t love me,” Joanna finishes. “Blah, blah, blah. Are we done here?”

She stands up from her chair, steady enough on her feet. Jim stands, too.

“He does love you,” Jim says.

The look on Joanna’s face is closer to forty than fourteen. “I know,” she says, “but he loves you more.”

 

 

 

Jim…isn’t quite sure what to do with the conversation.

He wanders around for the rest of the gathering on diplomatic auto-pilot – circulating, smiling, laughing where appropriate. When they all get back into the car, Jim is quiet, no longer trying to goad Joanna into acknowledging his presence.

He’s had enough acknowledgment for one day.

Joanna gets dropped off and he and Bones head back to the apartment. Bones carries the conversation, filling Jim in on all the family gossip and drama. Jim makes the right sorts of sounds in the right sorts of places, and Bones doesn’t notice anything wrong until they get out of the car and into the light of the apartment.

There, Bones gets one good look at Jim’s face and stops mid-story. “What’s wrong?”

Jim lifts a hand to wave the question off and opens his mouth…

“Don’t you dare say ‘nothing,’ kid. I can read you like a book.”

Jim still thinks about saying ‘nothing,’ but finally decides he’d better just get it out there. “I talked to Joanna,” he says.

“Oh yeah?” Bones asks. “Did she talk back?”

“Actually, yeah.”

“That’s great!” Bones’ wide smile makes Jim wince.

“Not so much,” he admits. “You…ah…you should tell her that you love her.”

Bones frowns. “I have. I _do_.”

Jim looks down at the ground. “Well, then, you should tell her you love her more than me.”

“What? Jim…”

The next words come out in a rush: “She thinks that you going into space with me means that you love me more than her and that’s why she hates me.”

“Oh,” Bones says.

Jim hurries on: “But, I mean, obviously, that’s stupid. I mean, I told her that was crazy, but you know how teenagers are.”

Bones is quiet for long seconds, not meeting Jim’s eyes. Then, he sighs. “She’s not wrong.”

Jim is momentarily speechless. “What are you talking about?” he says, finally. “Bones, I can _see_ how much you love her. Every time you look at her it’s written all over your face.”

“Of course I love her,” Bones says, each word sounding like it’s been torn from his throat. “But I still have to make a choice. And when I do, I don’t choose her.”

“You’re a doctor,” Jim stutters. “You have to save people.”

Bones squeezes his eyes shut. “I could save people anywhere. I _choose_ to save you.”

Suddenly, Jim hates the way this conversation is making him feel. “I didn’t ask you to—” _But he did ask, didn’t he?_ “I never meant for you to—“

Bones holds up his hand. “It’s not your fault, Jim. It’s mine. I do love Jo. More than anything. But I _need_ you.”

“Bones…” Jim’s never heard him sound so…defeated.

“I can live without being here. I do, and that probably makes me a terrible person. But I’m not sure I could live without you. The man I was when we met…I…you made me _want_ things again. I went from just putting one foot in front of the other, to actually walking, to going somewhere. Without you I…I don’t know.”

Bones isn’t looking at him anymore, head hanging, and Jim doesn’t know what to say. He closes the distance between them and wraps his arms around Bones instead.

“Bones, I…” He wants to tell Bones that he needs him, too, but it seems so selfish now. How can Jim’s need for Bones even _compare_ to a kid’s need for a father?

He doesn’t end up saying anything else and neither does Bones.

They make their way to the bedroom and fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.

 

 

When Jim wakes up in the morning, Bones isn’t there, but Jim knows he had an early meeting.

When Jim walks into the living room and picks up his PADD, he has a notification waiting. Bones has signed on to the new mission.

There’s an empty space where Jim’s joy should be.

His usual breakfast tastes like sawdust and he nearly burns his tongue with the coffee.

He needs to talk to Pike, but a comm screen won’t do. He picks up his stylus, scribbles a quick message saying he’ll be spending the night in San Francisco, and sends it to Bones’ PADD.

 

 

Jim doesn’t actually know what he’s going to ask for until he’s seated in an arm chair in Pike’s office and accepting the offered drink.

After the first sip, the words just start flowing.

They talk it all over; they hammer out details.

“Are you sure?” Pike asks, one final time.

“Yes, sir,” Jim says.

“Then you know what we need.”

Jim nods. “I do.”

 

 

He gets back to Atlanta before dinnertime the next day, but doesn’t go back to the apartment. He comms Bones with an address and asks him to meet Jim there.

Next, Jim calls a number he got from Jocelyn of all people. At first, the receptionist tells him she’s booked, but when Jim casually drops his own name, an immediate opening is suddenly discovered in her schedule.

Immediate is Jim’s favorite timeframe.

 

 

Jim’s left the door open as he and Mindy move through the place, chatting. They’re in the bedroom and Jim couldn’t be more excited about it.

“Jim?” he hears Bones’ voice calling from the entryway. “Are you in there? What’s going on?”

“Come on in, Bones,” Jim calls back. “We’re in the bedroom.”

“We?” Bones is asking as he follows the sound of Jim’s voice. “Who’re you—? Oh, hi.” Ever the gentleman, Bones immediately offers Mindy his hand. “I’m Leonard McCoy.”

“It’s great to meet you, Doctor McCoy,” Mindy says, shifting her PADD to shake his hand. “I’m Mindy Lopez.”

“Bones,” Jim says, “how do you feel about leopard print?”

Mindy looks alarmed. “You’re not…” She turns to Bones. “Please tell me he’s kidding.”

Bones just looks confused. “Jim, where _are_ we?”

Jim beams. “Our new apartment, if you like it. I know the furniture and paint colors are a little…well, they’re standard issue, but Mindy here works with lots of Starfleet personnel and she is totally going to hook us up. Show him the plans for the living room, Min.”

Mindy swipes a couple pages on her PADD and then tilts it in Bones’ direction.

Bones glances down at it and nods. “That’s great work,” he says. “Do you think you could excuse us for a minute, Mindy?”

She nods and looks at Jim. “Why don’t I round up those samples I was talking about and we can meet again on Tuesday?”

“Perfect,” Jim says. “Thanks, Min!”

They wait in silence until Mindy finds her way out.

“Isn’t she great?” Jim asks. “Joce recommended her.”

Bones’ eyes narrow. “Since when do you and Joce—? No, forget that. Jim, why are we decorating a strange apartment?”

“Because standard issue is boring as hell?” Jim quips.

Bones glares at him. “ _Jim_ …”

Jim sighs and tells himself to just lay it out there. “Because I don’t want to go back into space without you,” he says.

Bones frowns. “You won’t be. Didn’t you see that I signed the paperwork?”

“Of course, I did, but Bones, it isn’t right.”

It’s Bones’ turn to sigh. “It’s my decision, Jim.”

“But that’s the thing,” Jim says, “maybe it’s time for us to be making _our_ decisions. I need you, too, Bones. You’ve sacrificed a lot to stay by my side. Maybe it’s time I returned the favor.”

Bones looks stunned. “Jim,” he says carefully, “you can’t be saying what I think you’re saying…”

“Sure I can.”

“Our mission starts in less than three weeks.”

“I know, but I talked it over with Pike.” Jim holds up his PADD. “If we submit a partnership form and then file for family exigency, Starfleet will reassign us both to ground posts. Pike says he can get me on a couple of strategic task forces. I may have to go back to San Francisco a couple of times a month, but he says I can mostly telecommute. And we found you this totally awesome research post here, but if you want to see patients, we can make that happen, too.”

It seems to take Bones’ gaping mouth a few minutes to form actual words. “But you _love_ being a starship captain.”

Jim nods. “And I’ll be one again. I figure five years should be about enough time to reestablish your bond with Joanna and finish watching her grow up. She’ll be off to college by that time anyway. So we’re just sitting this mission out. I figure I owe you one.”

Bones, of course, has to keep asking questions. "That's all fine and good, Jim, but they'll have to give the _Enterprise_ – and her crew – to someone else. What if you don't get them back?"

"Then I don't get them back.” Jim is surprisingly okay with the thought. “We'll just have to take the crew and ship they do give us and make them awesome. Do not underestimate my awesome-making powers."

"Are you sure?” Bones still looks unconvinced. “Jim, you and the Enterprise.... I mean, I’ve caught you _jerking off_ in the captain’s chair!"

Jim rolls his eyes. "It was one time. And, yeah, I'm sure. I've learned a little something about priorities." He shrugs. "But who knows, sometimes I just get this feeling that the universe thinks me and her belong together."

"Oh yeah?" Bones raises a skeptical eyebrow. "Then how is the universe going to feel about you giving her up?"

"The universe is just going to have to deal," Jim says, "because _I_ think you and me belong together. And that everybody deserves a good father."

Bones looks down. "I haven't _been_ a good father."

"Don't worry," Jim says, "we’ll get it figured out. I have awesome-making powers, remember?"

Bones seems to chuckle in spite of himself. "I remember."

"Good," Jim says, picking up and holding out Bones' PADD, "now sign the paperwork."

This time Bones' eyebrow is teasing as a smile spreads across his face. "That's it? You're not going to get down on one knee? It's just, 'sign the paperwork'?"

Jim gets down on one knee and holds up the PADD. "Happy?" he asks. "Now sign the damn paperwork."

“Yes, sir,” Bones says.

 

 

**FIN.**


End file.
